


He is Loved

by cats_with_no_tails



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abused Castiel (Supernatural), Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxious Castiel (Supernatural), Castiel Gets a Hug (Supernatural), Castiel Has Feelings for Dean Winchester, Castiel Has PTSD (Supernatural), Castiel Has Self-Worth Issues (Supernatural), Castiel is Jack Kline's Parent, Castiel is Loved (Supernatural), Castiel is a Winchester (Supernatural), Castiel/Dean Winchester First Kiss, Comforting Dean Winchester, Crying Castiel (Supernatural), Crying Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester Comforts Castiel, Dean Winchester Has Anger Issues, Dean Winchester Has a Sexuality Crisis, Dean Winchester Loves Castiel, Dean Winchester is Protective of Castiel, Domestic Castiel/Dean Winchester, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotionally Hurt Castiel (Supernatural), Emotionally Hurt Dean Winchester, Episode: s15e18 Despair - Castiel's Confession Scene, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Eventual Castiel/Dean Winchester, Flashbacks, Hurt Castiel (Supernatural), Hurt/Comfort, Innocent Castiel (Supernatural), Jack being Jack, M/M, Other, Past Character Death, Post-Canon Fix-It, Protective Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester Ships Castiel/Dean Winchester, Socially Anxious Castiel (Supernatural), Soft Castiel/Dean Winchester, Soft Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:54:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27937582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cats_with_no_tails/pseuds/cats_with_no_tails
Summary: CODA 15x18 - TW, references to Cas's d**thCastiel has confessed his love for Dean and been taken to the empty (because the CW is homophobic). A heartbroken Dean, a desperate Sam, and a longing Jack need to come up with a way to get back the angel and save the world. They always have each other's backs, but this might be difficult.Meanwhile, Castiel is subjected to reliving his nightmares and regrets for eternity. For once, he's the one who needs saving. An empty casing, will Dean be able to break down his walls and give him some much needed comfort?**I wanted this story to be as in character as possible, in an attempt to give us all some closure. That being said, I kind of projected my feelings onto these characters. Oops. I just wanted to give Cas the love he deserves from his family, while finishing the SPN story as best I could. UPDATES EVERY WEEK
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Jack Kline & Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester
Comments: 5
Kudos: 137





	1. Chapter 1

Dean spent what must have been 12 (or more) hours, slumped hopelessly against the dungeon wall. He was in a daze, eyes red and stinging as he stared endlessly at the chalky concrete ground. Somewhere distant in his mind, he was reliving the situation that had played out just feet away. The silence of the room was painfully loud, and he could hear his heart banging against the confines of his ribs, against the Enochian engraved into those bones. 

His conscious mind was returned to him through his phone’s vibrations. He inwardly sighed, and blinked down at the screen. 

Sammy.

Suddenly, the pain was overwhelming. He didn’t deny the call, but he didn’t pick it up either. Instead, he tossed his phone - his other, OTHER phone - mindlessly to the side. The gravity of the situation hit him once again. He looked blearily towards the sky, to the God he would have once called for help, before burying his head in his palms. He heaved, with no sound even escaping his lungs. 

Some time passed, enough time for Sam and Jack to return to the bunker from wherever Sam had made his call. The door to the dungeon was ajar, unmoved from the time that Billie slammed it open. Dean heard the desperate calls of his brother echoing through the halls, traveling all the way into the damned room where he last saw Castiel. He felt ill at the knowledge that he had to explain what had happened.

Sam’s voice echoed closer, now joined by Jack, until their yells abruptly stopped at the door. Sam’s movement stuttered at the doorway, before it filled with urgency again. In an instant he was at Dean’s side, who could have been mistaken for dead if it weren’t for his labored breathing. Jack felt an unpleasant pang of absence, and he stilled, attempting to regain hope. 

Sam reached to place a hand on his brother’s shoulder. 

“Dean? Where’s-” his hand was forcefully smacked away. He continued on. “Where’s Cas? Did Billie take him too?” When he was met with no reply, he addressed the next problem that was plaguing him. “Why didn’t you answer your damn phone? You scared the hell out of me! What were you thinking, don’t you know what’s going on out th-” 

“Sam.” Jack said, loudly enough to interrupt the rambling, but still gently.

For the first time since.. since.. since earlier, Dean picked his head up from its hung position. He could feel his neck crack as he forced himself to look up despite the brightness of the real world. 

“Hey, kid.” Dean said, his voice gruff, but not unusually so. He addressed Jack, not Sam.

“Did.. did he.. the deal?” Jack asked. He sounded like a child who had gotten lost on a busy street. Dean noticed that the boy had averted his eyes, so as not to meet his own.

Sam spun around to face Jack, feeling like he had been left out of some sort of cruel prank. He almost began to question it, when Dean chuckled dryly, capturing his attention. Jack winced in anticipation.

“You knew, huh?” He asked from the floor. It wasn’t intended to be harsh, just an acknowledgement. Now that his face was in full view, Sam was intensely aware that Dean had been crying. His brother broke out into a wet laugh, but after a little while, he wasn’t laughing, he was.. he was sobbing. 

Sam looked at Jack in panic, only to find that Jack’s face was twisted in anguish as well. 

“Will somebody tell me what the hell is going on here?” Sam asked in desperation. “Whose handprint is that?” Though he already had a terrible, aching feeling in his gut.

Dean took a shuddering breath. “He’s fuckin’ gone, Sammy.” 

Sam looked incredulously at him. “So is everybody else, Dean! That’s what I was calling you about! He’s gonna come back, he’s probably wherever Billie put all the other people! I’m telling you, man... If we just find a way to kill her, then-”

“It’s not Billie.” Dean said, as if it wasn’t of importance.

“What? No, no, it has to be. She-”

“Sam. It’s not her, it’s Chuck.”

“Uhm. Well, then.. Then we just have to find a way to beat Chuck and everything will go back to normal, right?” He looked to Jack, then asked again, but more defeatedly, “Right?”

“He made a deal.” Dean barked, tired of the reminder. “He saved my life.”

“A deal? We’ve reversed deals before, I’m sure we can do it again, I mean-” Sam went on endlessly.

“No, Sam.” Jack said in that tone of voice he has, the one that makes Sam feel parental. “A deal with the empty.”

“Not like it freakin’ matters.” Dean pressed. 

“But he’s made it out of the empty before! And- and what about Billie? And why now?” Sam asked. He was visibly shaken.

Jack looked uncertain if he should explain, considering what the circumstances of this situation implied. He softly shook his head once, battling the turmoil he felt. 

“It was my life for his. The empty would allow him to stay on earth until he..” Jack trailed off before looking up at Sam, whose eyes darted cautiously from him to Dean. “Until he experienced a moment of true happiness.” 

Sam looked at Dean as the cogs churned within his mind. He was suddenly enlightened, staring at the one thing that everyone knew made Cas happy.

“Holy shit.” he said. He took a second to ground himself, thinking of all the times over the years that he had blindly assumed that they had all been honest with each other. 

He turned clumsily to look at Dean. “Did he- did you?” When his eyes hit his brother, everything fell into place. It was the dreariest Sam had ever, ever seen him. He looked lost, he looked- hopeless. “Dean.. What the hell happened?”

Jack felt confident enough that, if he told the truth, Dean wouldn’t scold him. “He has always been fond of you, Dean.” 

“Yeah? And you know what that got ‘im?” Dean said, choking towards the end of his sentence. He looked away from the pair, sighing. His head was pounding, and he knew that he was close to losing his composure again. He felt the gaze of his family on him as he pushed himself to standing. He staggered, and looked them both in the eyes, Sam first, and then Jack. 

“It got him dead.” He said. In reality, it was quiet enough to be a whisper, but in the silence of that room - it boomed. He attempted to brush past them and walk out the door, but his brother clapped a hand on his shoulder. 

“Dean.” Sam pleaded.

Normally, Dean would push him away and storm off, but he paused. He had his first coherent thought in what seemed like forever, and it was that.. ‘Cas was Sam’s best friend too.’ 

So he was going to tell them - because if he died today, he didn’t want to die with this secret. 

“Fine.” He sounded as broken as he felt. “Could we just.. sit down first?” 

The walk to the kitchen was silent except for the occasional squeak of a boot. Dean didn’t look back, he didn’t look anywhere but straight ahead as he forced his wobbling legs to carry him to the table. They sat as they normally did, except now one soul short. Sam and Jack sat waiting-- yet they were waiting patiently and empathetically, as if the world wasn’t at stake.

“I never thought-” Dean finally began, and the tears he was holding back fought their way through. “I never thought that he could feel things in the way that humans can. In the way we can. In the way I can.” he was babbling now, and his hands fidgeted under the metal table.

“Y’know, when we thought we were gonna lose him that one time-” he stopped himself to laugh at the thought - because the fact is, there were so many times. 

“When he said that he loved us. That we changed him.” he looked at Sam to make sure that they were on the same page, who urged him on by nodding his head in understanding. 

“I thought- maybe he meant humanity? I dunno, man.” He scrubbed a hand across his face, pointlessly wiping his damp cheeks. “And after all the crap I put him through? After I kicked shit in his face when he turned human?” 

Sam tried to interject. “Dean, you were worried about-” 

“So what?” Dean scoffed. “The dude pulled my ass out from Hell. He cared more about us than anyone else in this dump ever could.” 

The three of them sat in silence for several minutes. It seemed that all rationality was lost via that family meeting in the kitchen. 

“He loved me.” Dean stated all at once, bluntly, yet not unexpectedly. 

Sam’s forehead crinkled with sad understanding, and Jack bowed his head and began to stare at his fingers. They waited for him to continue.

“He was so happy, because of-- That bastard’s true happiness was telling me that he loved me.” Dean paused. “Me!” He reiterated. “And that thing ate him and Billie up before I could even...” The sentence trailed off. He wasn’t crying any longer, his tone was angry, but underneath that was incredible guilt - and everyone was feeling it. Another palpable silence settled between the three.

Meanwhile, Sam was caught in a whirlwind, though he knew that he couldn’t possibly be more emotionally disoriented than Dean. Thoughts and feelings of the past slammed into him and back out again with the force of harsh waves. The once distant assumptions about Castiel and Dean, those jokes between Charlie and him, the knowing looks that Mary and he had shared - they were not just assumptions and jokes and looks.

A soft, painful yet sincere laughter came from Sam’s throat. He brought his hands to his forehead, still leaning with his elbows on the table. He smiled, rubbing tears from his eyes aggressively (whether they were from exhaustion or upset, no one knew) and sighed. He fixed his eyes on his brother. 

“You’re both dumbasses.” He huffed. “I- I mean, seriously.” 

Dean thought about how right Sam was. About how many years he had wasted.

“We’ll get him back.” Sam continued after a long pause. He grabbed Jack’s shoulder, and addressed his loss. “We’re gonna get back your dad,” Then he looked at Dean. “and we’re gonna get back your angel.” 

A new wave of determination washed over Dean. He put a bandaid over the gaping hole in his heart, and began to do what they always manage to - find a way.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack, Sam, and Dean travel to where it all began in a last hope that Dean can bring back their angel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone!! Thank you for your patience in waiting for this chapter. I was really discouraged by the ending of Supernatural, but I'm back and ready to write my own ending. I hope you enjoy :-)

The Impala purred as Jack, Sam, and Dean began their trek. Unusually, Sam was driving. Dean let his forehead bump against the passenger window as they passed vacant car after vacant car, and Jack stared into the empty forest beside the road. The radio played the same CD on a loop, Starship’s ‘No Protection’, and no one dared to press pause. The nine hour journey to Illinois from Kansas felt much longer than any several day trip across the country Dean had taken. After about an hour and a half, Sam was the first to break the silence.

“There’s got to be a different album we can listen to.” He said curtly. “I think my head will explode if I have to listen to ‘Nothing’s Gonna Stop Us Now’ one more time.” 

“I think I remember tossing a Blue Oyster Cult disk in here somewhere last week.” Dean replied, far from his regular snarky remark about music.

“Uh. ‘Somewhere in here’?” Sam teased.

“Yeah. Somewhere in here, like, as in the car, Sam.” Dean said, warning his brother that he wasn’t in the mood for that shit.

“Alllllright. Jack, how do you feel about some radio!” Sam called over his shoulder, fussing with the dashboard. Jack looked up for less than a second, before he sighed and returned his attention to the surroundings of the car, although it was dark outside now. A Taylor Swift song began abruptly after a bit of meddling with buttons, resulting in a ‘hm!’ from Sam. 

“Do you guys think Taylor has her guitar in the abyss?” Asked a quiet Jack. It was pretty funny, but not as funny as Sam pretending it was. 

“HA! Did you hear that, Dean? Kid made a good joke.” Sam tried. Although annoyed by his brother, a small smile pulled at Dean’s lips. 

“You’re a goofball, Jack.” Dean said, immediately cringing at the softness of his voice. He couldn’t enjoy that playful feeling for long. A thought nagged at him, one he wanted to voice. ‘You’re just like Cass,’ he wanted to say.

Several more irritating pop songs passed, when Dean startled.

“Pull over, Sam.”

“Uh. Okay. Uhm.” It wasn’t like Sam had any other cars to watch out for, but he still got nervous. 

As soon as the car slowed to a pace that wouldn’t kill someone if they were to leap out of it, Dean opened the door and popped out into the night. He didn’t go anywhere... no, rather he did something that no one was expecting. He slid into the back seat, with Jack, whose eyes were wide with confusion. The boy started to move to the left, when Dean stopped him.

“C’mere.” Dean said gently, inviting the kid closer.

Sam and Jack had a similar look on their faces, and were both probably thinking the same thing. But Jack gladly did as he was asked, sliding under the offered arm and resting his head on Dean’s broad chest. The eldest of the three immediately closed his eyes and buried his face in Jack’s fluffy blonde hair, sighing. Jack’s eyebrows gradually unfurrowed, and he seemed to calm immensely. The child realized how exhausted he was, finally having a chance to rest. Sam momentarily couldn’t peel his eyes away, for he had never seen something as sweet as that gesture from his older brother in probably twenty years. His seat creaked as he turned around, forcing himself to look at the road ahead and not analyze what just happened. He cleared his throat and adjusted the rearview mirror to have sight of the two while he drove… y’know, just in case. Testing his luck, he changed the radio to the classical station, and no complaints arose. 

They arrived in Pontiac just as the sun was beginning to rise, and Sam had been the only one awake for the past seven hours. He pulled up to a gas station, feeling the car stop beneath him before letting himself out of the car. He pulled his lanky body from Baby with a short struggle and stretched his cramping limbs. The golden sun beat down onto the three of them, the only people left on Earth. Sam watched for a short while as Jack’s head rose and fell with Dean’s steady breaths. He felt a little guilty for not considering that Jack might need to be held like the small child he really is. The kid’s hands seemed so small, one curled into a ball around Dean’s shirt collar and the other laid peacefully in his lap. As much as Sam didn’t want to, he had to wake them, for he needed the directions to the barn. He stalked around the car to his sleeping family members and knocked lightly on the window, which, of course, startled them into sitting up in their seats. 

Sam made an apologetic face. ‘Sorry,’ he mouthed. 

Dean rubbed at his eye and opened the door at the same time, rasping out, “Where are we?”

“We’re about half a mile into Pontiac, I need directions.” Sam stated, almost regretting it when Dean’s expression changed. 

“Wh- do you think I have some internal google maps that will lead us there?” Dean snipped.

“No- well yes, but no? I just thought maybe you’ll know where it is better than I would.” Sam rushed to justify himself. “Plus, you guys had that whole... ‘bond’ thing.” 

“Shut up, Sammy.” Dean scoffed, snatching the keys and pushing his way to the driver’s seat. It seemed that he was suddenly in a rush, shoving the keys into the ignition with force and agitatedly waiting for the engine to roll over.

“Is your seatbelt on, Jack?” Sam asked, even though they didn’t really need them with the absolute lack of danger that came with there being no other people on the planet.

“...Uh, yeah..” Jack grumbled, still in a daze from the first hours of sleep he’d gotten in weeks. 

As much as Dean hated to admit it, Sam was right. He could feel that damn barn tugging the car in its direction so forcefully that he wasn’t even sure if he was the one steering the wheel. The insecurity about whether or not this plan was going to work clawed at his heart. He channeled as much inner strength as possible, forcing himself to feel hope instead of grief when they neared their destination and stepped onto the dying grass of Pontiac, Illinois.

Dean’s breath caught strenuously in his throat upon seeing that giant hayloft. It was nearly impossible not to be transported back to the day Castiel entered his life, bursting through that same lumber, more incredible than anything Dean had ever encountered. It was strange, that memory… knowing what Dean knew now, it’s more than the story of the Righteous Man. It’s the story of the angel who, in one act of defiance, might’ve saved mankind just by falling in love.

Dean let out an extremely shaky breath and turned his face to Sam and Jack. He wasn’t crying, but his jaw was set with the intention of holding something back. Sam made that face, the sad kinda smile that lets Dean know that he’s feeling it too, and Jack’s eyes twinkled as he gazed at the shack where everything changed. The early morning, egg yolk sun seemed to frown at them, daring them to try to fight all of this. 

“I’ll... be back.” Dean half-promised the team. He walked the football field distance to the enormous wooden doors. As he pushed them, they creaked open and welcomed him, in what seemed to be a grand gesture. Dean thought of Castiel’s true, ringing voice, and the way his face blinded Pamela Barnes in a horrifying show of power. He turned to close the entrance, looking at the floor to avoid the sight of Jack and Sam watching him a far distance away. He smirked a little bit when he saw that the bursted light bulbs and dull spray-painted sigils remained untouched, even after all this time. 

Dean reached the center of the room, and in one heavy motion, let himself crumple to the ground. He knelt there, and bowed his head to the ground, before he tipped to his side and laid on the cement. Closing his eyes, he curled into himself with an arm cushioning his temple. He let himself feel.

The first thing that came to mind was dancing with Cas, home alone in the kitchen. He was reading online when Cas had come to him with a walkman and some ancient headphones, asking him “What is this kind of music called?” 

When Dean stopped his eyerolls and listened, it was a Vance Joy song. “It’s called trash, Cas,” he had retorted, but pulled up ‘Fire and the Flood’ on his laptop anyway. Dean knew that Cas had never seen the appeal to music, but now he was bobbing his head to the rhythm of the guitar.

“You like this song, buddy?” Dean asked, smiling. 

“I think so, Dean. It feels a bit like flying.” Cas said solemnly, still moving his head off-beat.

“You ever hear their song ‘Riptide?’” Dean said nonchalantly.

“For someone who says that this band is trash, you surely know a lot about them.” Cas attempted flatly.

Dean typed the song into YouTube’s search bar, and clicked on the lyric video. He stood up from the diner-style chair and walked to Castiel. 

“Ooo, I like this one.” Cas beamed at him. “But why are his friends green?” 

Dean couldn’t help but look at him fondly. He took one of Cas’s hands in his own and placed an arm around his waist. When he brought his attention back to Castiel’s face, the angel had this look on him like he had just witnessed a miracle. Dean chuckled, and swayed him back and forth in a playful manner.

“Dancing feels like flying?” Cas asked quietly, not making eye contact. 

“It sure does, pal.” Dean paused, thinking. “Try this, it’s fun.” He said, removing the arm supporting Cas’s back and stepping back. “Spin.” He teased, but Castiel did. It was the first time Dean could remember Castiel giggling at something that wasn’t a cat video. 

Nearly forgetting that this was just a memory, Dean felt his lips quirk into a smile. 

In the dampness of the barn, he let himself say the things he always wanted Castiel to hear. “You’re… so pretty, Cas.” Dean spoke gruffly. “You’ve always been damn nice to look at, buddy. Those eyes.” He laughed wetly. “You’ve always said it was just a vessel. But I swear, man, those eyes are-- were-- some serious angelic shit.” 

The second thing banging around in Dean’s head was Castiel wearing his clothes. It was always difficult to get the angel out of that trenchcoat, and even then, he was never without dress pants or a tie. It was pretty recently that Cas was beginning to wind down, tire out. He loved to remind the brothers that he didn’t ‘require’ sleep, but it had become more common for Dean to stumble across a sleeping Castiel on the sofa or slumped over on the desk. The one day, Cas seemed like he was struggling to stay conscious and the circles under his eyes seemed much darker. 

“I’m on it.” Cas had said, in reply to Sam stating something about a case 2 states over. 

“Absolutely not. You out of your damn mind, Cas?” Dean scolded. “You’re in the state to take a nap, not drive fourteen hours.” 

Sam chimed in. “Uh, I gotta agree with Dean on this one, man. You look like if I poked you, you’d fall over.”  
Cas did that thing where he rolled his eyes and tried to look angry, but to Dean, he just looked a little bit grumpy.

“C’mon, let Sam and Jack take it. I’ll stay back with you, n’ you can spend some time in actual normal people clothes for a night.” Dean tried to reason, as if talking to a pouting child. After a pause, he added, “We can do board games?” which seemed to do the trick.

The angel always seemed to brighten up, just slightly, when Dean suggested that they time together. 

Dean barely had time to see Sam and Jack out before Castiel was hounding him about playing ‘Trouble’. 

“Where’d you even get-” Dean started, but decided it was a lost cause. “Alright, fine, but you’re not spending the night in a suit.” 

Cas frowned. “But-” 

“You’re a pain, ya know that? No buts. I’m gonna run and grab some pjs for you, don’t move.” Dean warned jokingly.

Dean returned to find the angel in the exact spot that he left him. He had a ball of clothing in his arms, which he immediately thrust at Cas. 

“These are ‘comfy clothes,’ alright? They might not fit great, but you never listen when we say to buy your own, so you’ll have to deal with it.” Dean explained, failing in his attempt to be assertive.

Cas was beaming.

“They smell like you, Dean.” He said brightly.

Dean scoffed in order to hide the endearment he was feeling. “That’s great. Yeah.” he stammered. “Just put ‘em on and meet me in the den.”

He threw himself onto the leather sofa, which had replaced two tartan chairs, in the Dean-cave. Letting out a breath and fumbling with the remote, he turned on the Discovery channel. He was loosely focused on a segment about elephants and their babies when Cas padded into the room. The angel wore a patented Dean flannel™ and some sweatpants that were much too large. Dean had to put a lot of energy into looking directly at Cas’s face, rather than at his shoulders or poking hipbones. 

“Isn’t that better, buddy?” Dean asked awkwardly.

“Yes.. I think I understand better now what ‘comfy clothes’ are.” Cas replied, using his fingers to air-quote.

“Right. Er.” Dean stood up and moved to Cas. “You should. Uhm. I’m gonna tie these so they stay up better... A little too big on you, huh?” Dean restrained his hands from shaking as he pulled on the strings to tighten the sweatpants. He made a bow out of them, listening to Castiel’s contented hum when he stepped away.

“Great! Okay.” Dean flopped back onto the couch, patting it, beckoning Cas to sit next to him. 

The night was the most tranquil one Dean could think of having in recent memory, it was an indescribable sight - seeing Castiel’s eyes sparkle as he learned the details about wombats.

“Dean, they’re beautiful. God’s creations are so, so amazing.” Cas had stated, not pulling his gaze from the screen.

“They sure are, Cas.” Dean replied, knowing that His most amazing creation was right there.

Remembering this, Dean squeezed his eyes tighter. 

“You’re incredible, Cas,” he spoke into the dark. “Experiencing you, your personality, was the best thing anyone could ask for. I- Get your ears on, angel, I’m trying to tell you something.” 

Dean inhaled. “I love you.” 

Not expecting anything to come of that confession, he nearly had a heart attack when the pop of an exploding lightbulb demanded his attention. Everything seemed to happen so fast, almost an exact recreation of their first meeting, but more... at peace. The wooden barn panel opened itself quietly, revealing empty blackness. Dean wanted to run, but in awe, he stumbled towards it. As he took a step inside of the abyss, Castiel appeared, his steps splashing. 

The angel’s face wrinkled in confusion, calling for the man in the gruff voice that Dean had been dying to hear. “Dean..?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I greatly appreciate any/all feedback <3 I'm already a bit farther through with the next chapter, so expect it sooner rather than later.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! I hope some people will find closure in this story. I've spent a while working on it, trying to make sure it wasn't OOC. Please let me know what you think and if you have any suggestions for the next chapters! :-)


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